


We're all strangers at first

by das_modell



Category: Emigrate (Band), Rammstein
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9846374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/das_modell/pseuds/das_modell
Summary: "So where are you taking me now?" I asked and tried to smile again as I looked at this man the first time properly. He wasn't bad at all, actually he was quite beautiful in a unique way. Black hair, not too short nor too long, messily hanging on his face, nearly hiding his truly fascinating, and somehow sad looking, bright green eyes. His sharp jawline was covered with short, but clearly visible stubble. He was wearing a red T-shirt that really brought up his big, clearly trained arms, and regular black jeans. I felt like garbage next to him, really.--Richard is lost (both mentally and physically) and Till somehow manages to save him.





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. A thing happened and I started writing. This is my first fanfiction ever, (try to) enjoy and leave a comment! 
> 
> +You should know I'm from Finland, so my English isn't perfect, feel free to point out all the mistakes I make so I can fix them!!

"Come on Richard you can stand one more shot!" I heard them yelling as I sat on a soft, blood red sofa. I didn't answer. My thoughts had gone more and more crazy during that night. Why am I with these people? I don't even like them. Actually I hate them. Or why am I with any people anyways? I'd rather be alone like usual.

"Richard?!" I woke up from my own world, and left my thoughts for a moment, as I noticed they were nearly screaming my name.

"What?" I answered with a coldest voice that could ever come out of my mouth.

"One more shot?"

"No, I've had enough."

"Oh come one Richie! I know you can do better, don't be a pussy!"

For one moment, I just wanted to throw the shot glass to the wall, and beat the shit out of these people. But I didn't. I still had some kind of control over myself. Instead I just stood up, and simply left the room. I didn't want to cause any more trouble, I was tired. It took me few seconds to remember, in which direction the door was. I took my old well-worn leather jacket from the stand, put on my black boots, and got out of the apartment.

The corridor was empty and dark, the only light came from the few windows placed at the end of the corridor. I walked down the stairs, and it didn't take me long to notice that I'd forgotten to tie my shoelaces. I had fallen down the stairs with a speed of light, by stepping on my laces. I lifted myself up with a little help of the handrail. I felt a nasty sting on my forehead and noticed that a small trail of something was running down my face. I swept it off with my hand and realized that that something was indeed blood, since my hand was now entirely covered in red.

"Fuck"

I wiped my hand on my black skinny jeans which already had some stains on them, so I decided making one more didn't matter. At the same time I realized that the awfully yellow walls of the corridor also got some of my blood on them. "Well, at least the walls look prettier now" I thought to myself, as I sat on the lowest stair to tie my laces to avoid doing the same mistake again.

I sat there for a good 15 minutes, and when I was sure that I could walk - or even stand - I got out of the building. Finally. I still wondered how any of them hadn't gone after me, or just walked into me in the corridor. It took me almost half an hour to get out.

It was dark outside, and to be honest I really didn't know where I was.How the hell did I even got here? I looked around and only saw some other buildings and streetlamps. After all, I decided to keep walking the road that went past the neighborhood.

I continued walking at the side of the road, and tried not to stumble.I reached to my pocket to check the time from my phone, but the pocket was empty. Of course. Of course I had lost my phone. I started to feel hopeless. I was alone in a strange city, in the middle of the night, I had no phone, I had no fucking clue of where was I going.

I sat down and leaned my back to the nearest streetlamp. I tried to feel as comfortable as I could, but you know, sitting on the ground is hardly ever comfortable. I reached to my other pocket, to check if I still had my cigarettes. Surprisingly I did, so I took one out of the crumbled package, set it nicely between my lips and lighted it. At least there was no-one worrying where I was, or trying to find me. Good things about being lonely I guess, the only one you can hurt is yourself. I decided to wait until someone would drive by, and maybe pick me up.

I sat there for a really long time. Hours maybe? Who knows. I woke up to the sound of a car. I also realized that I hadn't finished smoking the cigarette and had fallen asleep with it between my lips. The still burning stub was now laying on the ground next to me. According to that I hadn't slept for too long. Suddenly I saw a light of a car. I couldn't see what kind of a car it was. It slowed down its speed and then stopped. I think I'd finally been found by someone. Good. I saw a tall figure of a man coming out of the car, walking towards me.

"Hey,what's up? Are you OK? Why are you sitting here alone?" He asked with a low, but yet soft voice.

"Well,I'm alone, sitting at the side of a road in the middle of the night, I don't have my phone and I'm fucking drunk. I guess you could say I'm not." I answered with a wicked little smile on my face. I was certainly surprised I could answer with such a long sentence in that state.

He looked at me quietly for a moment. Maybe he was wondering if I was worth saving.

"OK. Get up and get in the car, you're gonna freeze if you stay here, that's for sure." He said after a long uncomfortable silence,and helped me to get up. At that point, I didn't even think getting in the car as a bad idea. At least someone was taking care of me in some way or another, and that's all I needed at that point, because I wasn't capable of doing it myself.

"I'm Till, by the way." He introduced himself after we'd managed to get in the car.

"Richard" I said and shook his hand.

"OK, Richard, if I might ask, why were you sitting there alone?"

"I got pissed off by people."

"By people you mean who?"

"I didn't know them actually..." I said and remembered how angry I was.

"I see."

"So where are you taking me now?" I asked and tried to smile again as I looked at this man the first time properly. He wasn't bad at all, actually he was quite beautiful in a unique way. Black hair, not too short nor too long, messily hanging on his face, nearly hiding his truly fascinating, and somehow sad looking, bright green eyes.His sharp jawline was covered with short, but clearly visible stubble. He was wearing a red T-shirt that really brought up his big, clearly trained arms, and regular black jeans. I felt like garbage next to him, really.

"To my apartment. You can -and you will- stay overnight, you can't be left alone it that state" Till answered as he looked at me and I thought I saw a little smile on his face too.

I noticed that I had fallen asleep again as we arrived to his apartment. I was sitting -or more likely laying- in a really weird position, with my head leaning on his shoulder. He woke me up by slapping my cheek gently.

"Come on, time to wake."

I mumbled back something unintelligible, and tried to look less embarrassed than I actually was. Till got out of the car and walked to the other side to open the door for me, and to help me to stand up and walk to the door.

His house wasn't much of a mansion, but I liked it. It was located on a street full of houses that looked just the same; old, somewhat dilapidated but beautiful and homey. Each house had it's own little yard, separated from the neighboring house's yard and the sidewalk with a small white wooden fence and gate which was hanging open only from the other hinge.

He walked me to the door with his hand on my shoulder. I felt uncomfortable being so close to him. I didn't really like being close to people, strangers especially. We walked up the few stairs that were placed before the door. He told me to stand on my own for a moment when he searched for the key and opened the door.

The apartment looked blank. It didn't have much furniture, but there were random items laying around the floor, tables and shelves. It looked familiar and safe, because it reminded me of my own apartment that I used to have.

I took off my shoes without asking if I'd have to, they made my feet hurt.

"You can wait in the living room, just walk forward and turn right. I'm gonna get you something to eat." He said as he disappeared somewhere, which I imagined to be the kitchen.

I was a little more clear now, and I could walk more steadily. I found my way to the living room, and sat on the brown, comfortable-looking couch. I looked around, focusing on the tiniest details of the room.It had three black walls, and one red one which had some posters and press cuttings of bands and other artists. I recognized some of them;Marilyn Manson, Sex Pistols, Black Sabbath, Type O Negative. He really had a great taste in music. The living room was definitely more full than the rest of the apartment, and I assumed that it was the place where Till spent most of his time. There was also a table full of paper and magazine piles in front of the big window which I imagined to have a great sight to the street. Right now it was dark so I couldn't be sure.

Till came back from the kitchen with two plates. Each of them had a slice of pizza on them. He offered me the plate, and I was more than happy to receive it. I was actually really hungry, I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten this much.

"The pizza might be a little old, I hope you don't mind. I couldn't find anything else" He said and sat next to me.

"Oh, don't worry this is more than good enough. Thank you."

We finished eating in silence. Till wasn't really social I think. But there wasn't much to talk about either. I was still drunk so I wouldn't remember the things we talked about, and would probably ask the same things again in the morning.

"Are you finished? I can take your plate." He said and disappeared again with the plates.

Soon he came back with a blanket.

"I hope this is enough, I don't have anything else to offer, you can sleep on the couch."

"Thank you. For this whole thing."

"No need to thank me, I couldn't leave you there. Let's talk more in the morning. It's nearly 4 am and we should get some sleep, you especially."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Till and Richard have a nice morning chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Guess what? I've finally finished the second chapter! (After an embarrassingly long time tho) I know there's not much happening, but I promise the third chapter will be more interesting!;)

Next day I woke up with a massive headache, I wasn't even surprised anymore, because why should I? I was already used to it. I'd learned it at the age of 15, -or maybe before, I couldn't remember- when I first started drinking. I had tried to learn all kinds of tips and tricks to keep the headache away, but soon I had discovered that I'd just have to suffer or take a painkiller. That was the price of partying.

I was still too tired and not feeling well enough to wake up just yet. I laid still on my back, staring at the ceiling. I imagined it was early in the morning since the apartment was still dark and quiet. I argued with myself whether I'd like to leave before he wakes up and pretend that nothing happened or to wait and thank him. I wondered why he wanted to help me. I was just a dirty, alcoholic, punk who had no property other than his crappy apartment, his very few clothes, cigarettes and a cellphone which he had lost. I was indeed pathetic. I decided to wait, I had to thank him. I closed my eyes again and fell asleep immediately.

I spent a few hours laying on the couch, dreaming restlessly. The dreams were mostly about yesterday, about Till. I'd always dreamed a lot, I dreamed about things that had happened, things that I thought would happen and most of all; things that I'd want to happen. This time it was Till.

The dream was just like yesterday (Actually it could be any day if my life, but yesterday had a different and better kind of ending); I was drinking, got lost, and then this man drove by and took me to his apartment. This time we didn't just eat pizza and go to bed.

As soon as he closed the door of his apartment, he pushed me against the wall of the dark corridor and looked straight into my eyes with his own deep green ones. He looked at me for a long time, I could feel his gaze. I felt somewhat uncomfortable being so close to him and being exposed and looked at, but it also made me feel aroused. He was close. I could feel his breath on my skin, I could smell his unique scent. He held me on place with a firm grip, so I couldn't escape even if I wanted to. He brought his face closer to mine and I could already feel a warm brush of his lips. He stayed like this for a moment, he was testing me. Then, finally, he kissed me, pushing me against the wall even harder. He didn't use his hands to hold me in place anymore, instead of doing that, they were now placed on my neck to keep my head in the right position. He kissed me again and again. Each kiss was deeper, softer and more passionate than the one before. Our lips parted for a moment, and a quiet moan escaped from my mouth. He moves to my neck, placing tender kisses here and there, making his way up to my left ear.

And that's where it ends. They always end at a critical moment like this, I hate myself for it. I never get to see the ending, as much as I'd like to.

Dreams are my escape from real world. The place where I can be myself and do whatever I want to, without being judged. You see, in the real world I've never actually admitted to myself that I like men too. I'm too afraid to admit. There's already so many things going in in my head, I don't need any more things to distract me. After I wake up, I'm back in this cruel piece of shit world. It sucks. That's actually one of the many reasons for my drinking. It also helps me to escape from reality. But I know, you can't always hide. Sometimes you just have to face it, no matter what.

I stared at the ceiling quietly, listening to the clock ticking and watching the sunbeams moving on the walls. I was thinking about my recent dream and the situation I was currently in. I never really thought about the past. Why should I? It was already gone and there was nothing I could change.

I was thinking about this man who saved me. It was kinda strange, why would someone pick up some stranger from the side of the road and then bring him to their apartment, without even being asked. I came to the conclusion that he was either a rapist or just a really warm-hearted guy. I guess that if he were a rapist he would've probably raped me yesterday when I was drunk and unable to fight back.

I was so lost in thought that I hadn't noticed that Till had come to the living room and was now standing quietly with his arms crossed, left shoulder leaning against the wall, watching me with his incredibly green, deep eyes and waiting for me to notice him. After an embarrassingly long time, I did notice him. I quickly sat up and tried to forget the thoughts about Till that I just had. His gaze was so intense it made me feel like he could actually read my thoughts.

"No need to look so afraid, it's just me. I brought you a glass of water and painkillers. I thought you could need them." He said and placed the glass and the pill on the table next to the couch, and then sat next to me.

"How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?"

"Not too good but I guess I deserve it" I answered and smirked.

"You definitely do" He said and laughed.

We sat quietly and our eyes didn't meet once.

"Do you need to use the shower?"

"Yeah, actually that would be great" I answered after swallowing the pill with the water.

"There's a towel and some clean clothes in the bathroom, I figured you could need them too" He said and finally looked at me with a little friendly smile on his face.

"Thank you, you shouldn't have"

\---

The shower felt better than I cared to admit. I couldn't remember the last time I had showered properly, since they had cut off my water after I stopped paying the bill. After that, I'd been washing my self in public bathrooms.

Once I was done with the shower, I put on the clothes Till had left for me; a black T-shirt with a white Metallica logo on it and black regular jeans. I felt comfortable in them because they were really close to my usual outfit. The shirt was a little bit too big but I didn't let it bother me too much. I rolled up the sleeves to make it look more like a tank top. I hunged the towel over the bathroom door to let it dry and walked to the kitchen. 

Till was sitting next to a small wooden table with a small old looking notebook in front of him and a pen in his hand. He looked very focused on what he was doing, so I decided not to distract him. I quietly sat next to him and carefully studied his details now that I had the chance to do so, while he wasn't watching. I could not help but think about my recent dream when looked at him. There was something mysterious about him. Something incredibly beautiful, but I couldn't name it.

"I can feel you're watching me" He said but kept his eyes still on the notebook.

"Oh, I'm sorry I was lost in thought" I lied "What are you writing?" I 

"Nothing important. It's just a little hobby" He said and finally looked at me "You want coffee?"

"Yes please"

"Okay" He nodded, closed the book leaving it on the table right in front me, and went to get the coffee.

"Do you want milk or sugar with your coffee?"

"No thanks, I like it black"

He came back with two white coffee mugs and handed me the other one. Coffee was another thing that I haven't had in a long time, so the first sip was heavenly. I put the mug on the table and gazed at the notebook. I was eager to know what was in it.

"Do you mind if I read?" I asked and regretted right after. I wanted to respect his personal space.

"At your own risk" He said, laughed and took a little sip of his coffee.

"Well there are very few things that can shock me" I said and took the book.

It looked very well-worn; the pages were old yellow paper with coffee stains on them and the cover of it was decorated with press cuttings like the walls in his living room.  
I was surprised with what I found inside. Poems. He writes poems. Not a first thing I'd think when I saw a man that looked like him. This just made him even more interesting to me.

I had opened the book from a random page. This one was called "Feuerräder"

Leg mir das Halsband um  
dann geh ich auf die Knie  
und fang zu bellen an  
der Schmerz ist schön wie nie

Mach den Käfig auf  
hol mich ins Sternenreich ja

Komm tuh mir langsam weh  
leg mir die Ketten an  
und zieh die Knoten fest  
damit ich lachen kann

Mach den Käfig auf  
hol mich ins Sternenreich ja

Dort wo die Sterne waren  
drehn sich Feuerräder  
wir feiern eine Leidenschaft  
der Schmerz ist schön wie du

I read some other ones too; Kokain, Wilder Wein and Schwarzes Glas. I was amazed. They were really different from what I had ever read before. They were dark, some of them also very sexual, violent, brutal even, but I liked them. I really did.

"I why is it just a hobby? You could make money with these."

"Oh come on, no-one would buy that shit. It's too harsh for magazines and publishing a book would cost more than I'd get from it."

"Have you thought about being a lyricist for some bands? These are extraordinary you know, they'd really stand out."

"Yeah, maybe. It has always been my personal thing, something that I do for myself, they're not meant for big audiences. And I already have a source of money." He remarked.

"And what's that?"

"I sell things" he answered and took another sip of his coffee.

"Like what?"

"Anything. If someone needs something in particular, they'll ask me and I'll get them what they want. Simple as that." He said and stood up to put the mugs to the sink. 

"So that's your job?" I smirked.

"Yeah, kind of. It's my own way of doing business I guess" he chuckled and sat down again. "So what do you do for living?"

"I don't have a job at the moment, but I'm a musician. Sometimes I play on the streets to get some money for the necessary things. It's pathetic I know." I confessed.

"Well we can be pathetic together then" Till said and made us both let out a little chuckle.


End file.
